Thank you to my betas: Adt216 and Love of Escapism.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters associated with it.

CHAPTER FOUR

-The Playbook-

"Okay, so let me see if I've got this straight?" Emmett stares at me in complete disbelief. I take another sip of my beer and indicate with my hand for him to proceed. "Your boss…the evil selfish, cow that Rosalie and I have been hearing about nonstop for the last two years, the woman who has been at the centre of each aneurism, each tantrum and each drunken debauchery you've starred in, is going to be your pretend girlfriend for the next three weeks?" I nod as Emmett pauses. "And you're doing her a favour because she told some ridiculous lie to her parents about being in a relationship, when in fact all she's been doing for the last two and a half years, that we know of, is lowering your life expectancy and inhibitions."

"Don't forget that she'll be recommending my book to Aro," I point out indignantly.

"Oh yeah, let's not forget about that, please!" Emmett throws his hands in the air and laughs obnoxiously. Somehow I sense that I won't like where this is going. "Tell me something, Eddie." I narrow my eyes at him in warning. He knows I hate that damn nickname. He only smiles brighter in reply. "Did she give you any guarantees that Breaking Dawn will be publishing your book?"

I frown at his question and focus on my fingers that are absentmindedly picking the label off the beer bottle. I know it is supposed to be a sign of sexual frustration, but I'm sure we can all agree that's an obvious lie. "Well…no." I sigh, placing the empty bottle on the side table.

"So, you have no guarantee that they will bother to look at the thing, even after your Miss Swan makes 'the call'?" He air quotes to emphasize his distaste with a slow shake of his head. He's giving me the you're such a dumb fucking idiot look.

"No, I don't. But I don't necessarily want that guarantee. All I want is for the right people to read it." It's not like I'm overly confident, but I know my book is good. I'm certain that they'll get what I'm trying to say with it once they actually give it the time of day.

"Cocky much?" Emmett snorts and throws his arms behind his head, watching me thoughtfully.

"That's not it, Em." I sigh heavily and stand up to get another beer from the kitchen. I walk back and drop a cold one in Emmett's expecting hands, noticing for the hundredth time just how huge they are. There is no mistaking the mammoth size of my best friend. He practically takes up the whole couch with his physical dominance and oversized personality.

"Please, enlighten me then." He chugs down half the beer in one gulp. I probably forgot to mention that the man can drink a house full of frat brothers under the table. And he did. Many times in fact when we were still in college, which is where Emmett, Rosalie and I all met.

I met Rosalie in my second year at UW. She is a busty, blond beauty and an enormous bitch to boot. But her bitchiness is endearing and seldom meant to be hurtful. We had a couple of classes together and met in the library a few times in order to share notes and study together, once she realized that I wasn't after her body of course. Rosalie and Emmett were already dating by then. She invited me for beers at her house after one particularly gruelling exam, and I met Emmett. It was bromance at first sight.

"My pride is already hanging by a fucking thread as it is, man. Taking a handout to get the book read is already killing me, but I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is if they actually publish the book only because Miss Swan insisted upon it."

"Okay," Emmett concedes, straightening his body out on the couch and kicking his legs over the arm.

"Comfy?" I frown and roll my eyes at the big kid in front of me.

"Very." He gives me a broad grin and proceeds. "I get why you're not pushing the publishing thing. It makes sense that you would want to achieve that on merit and not because you'll be frolicking with your boss. So I'll give you that." He ponders his next words for a second. "What I don't get is why you're doing this. I mean, it's not like you were in a hurry to have your book published in the first place. You're twenty six, bro…there's time."

"What are you getting at, Em?" This is the part I was sensing earlier - the part I'm not going to like.

"I guess what I'm asking is-" He stops for a second and eyes me cautiously. "Are you into this boss chick of yours?"

I choke on the beer in my mouth and cough viciously, beer spraying everywhere. I lift my t-shirt to wipe my chin once I regain control of myself. Emmett is looking at me in amusement.

"Are you fucking crazy?" I cry loudly. "You know how I feel about that woman."

"Are you sure?" Emmett raises an eyebrow sceptically.

"Yes! I'm fucking sure," I huff in indignation. I can't help the physical reaction I have to her body, but the rest is about as unattractive as cancer. There is absolutely no way I'm going there with her.

"Good. So what are you going to do? You can't just walk into her house with your balls showing."

"That's why you're here, dickhead." I sigh and fall against the back of the suede chair I'm sitting in, covering my eyes in frustration. This is a fucking mistake. Not the discussing it with Emmett part, no, the part where I agreed to be Miss Swan's little bitch for three weeks.

What the fuck was I thinking?

"Okay then." Emmett suddenly sits up straight and slaps his knees with his hands. I peek at him through my fingers and my mood lifts slightly. I know that determined look on his face. It's the exact same one he gets when he takes a dare. Emmett is in advertising; in other words, he's fucking brilliant when inspiration strikes. "What you need is a playbook, a definite guide to when to play the offense and when to play the defence. You feelin' me Eddie?"

I ignore the nickname as a smile lifts the corner of my mouth. "I'm feeling you, bro."

Two hours and two six packs of Heinekens later, Emmett needs to get back to his wife and I finally have a plan of action, one that will not expose my balls as Emmett puts it.

Before I go to bed I look in the mirror critically. I give myself a little pep talk and run through the list of terms Emmett and I came up with. Emmett said that I should play with the attributes God gave me. Even though I am not interested in Miss Swan in a sexual way. Okay, that's a lie, but Emmett doesn't need to know that, and I'm not planning on acting out on my urges. My main focus will be to fluster her. In Emmett's opinion, it is the best way to keep her on her toes. He also suggested that I treat Miss Swan like I would any other woman and turn on the panty dropping smile and the sex hair, terms Rosalie apparently uses to describe me to her friends. I frown as I look at my hair. It's unruly and untidy at best. No matter what I try, I can't get them to do what I want. Sex hair? Women are ridiculous creatures. Sex hair and panty dropping smiles and bedroom eyes – and they accuse men of only having sex on the brain. Pffft.

You might be wondering why I'm planning on keeping Miss Swan flustered? Why I need to feel like I have one up on her? Well, to piss her off of course.

Emmett and I both agreed that I will be doing a woman I despise a huge fucking favour with little to no benefits for me. Emmett's game plan is therefore solely based on payback. As he so rightly put it, it is time the bitch gets a little taste of her own medicine. It is time someone shows Miss Swan who's the boss. So, while I'm doing my arch enemy a favour, I may just as well have a little fun of my own.

I smile at the thought and head to bed, turning off the lights as I go.

Emmett is rather confident that I can pull this off. The only concern that he did mention is the fact that we have no idea what Miss Swan's defensive play looks like. We might be awakening a dormant beast.

I panic for a quick moment, and then realize that I have never faced and lost a challenge. If Miss Swan has a few tricks up her sleeve, she will have to bring it, because I don't lose…ever.

Let the games begin.

Low hung Levi's that Rosalie says make my ass look good enough to bite. Check.

Grey Bob Dylan T-shirt. Check.

Hair…well that's still the same as everyday…a complete fucking disaster. Check.

I take a deep breath as I give myself a last onceover in the elevator mirror on my way up to the twenty-seventh floor of Miss Swan's building. Yes, she lives in the penthouse apartment of her building...where else?

The doors open with a soft ping, and less than five seconds later, I'm standing in front of her door. I press the bell and wait. Fuck, I'm nervous. My palms are sweaty. My heart is racing and my stomach is in knots. I memorized all the terms Emmett and I came up with last night, but somehow I feel like a fool today. I'm still reminding myself why the fuck I'm doing this when the door suddenly swings open.

Holy mother of all things that is hot.

"Mr. Cullen," Miss Swan greets me formally, one hand still holding the door and the other pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. I have never seen her with her hair loose, and shit on a stick, she looks breathtaking - and five years younger than her normal twenty-eight going on forty. I have to fight the overwhelming urge to just dig my hands into her locks, to test the weight of her curls and whether it really is as soft as it looks. My eyes drop to her feet and I see that she's wearing five inch heals with formfitting jeans that hug her curves deliciously, accentuated by a soft, off the shoulder top.

"Mr. Cullen?" she asks again and I realize that her second greeting is slightly more clipped. My eyes fly up to hers, and the moment I see her irritation, my desire dissipates instantly.

I swallow thickly and attempt a smile, but it's stiff and uncomfortable, so I settle my lips in a grim line. "Good afternoon, Miss Swan."

She steps aside in order for me to enter and I give her a small smile as I pass her, her scent causing a heady feeling to engulf me. I could bathe in that smell. It's honey and cinnamon and all woman, and I fucking love it.

I shake my head slightly and take a calming breath. I'll need to focus if I'm going to do this like Emmett and I discussed. Fantasizing about Miss Swan's hair and smell is definitely not going to help me now.

As I scan my surrounding, I am once again taken aback. Her living room is decorated in soft hues of creams, browns and blues. Vases of flowers stand scattered all over the room. The thick cream curtains are pulled back to reveal a beautiful view of the city and the lighting in here creates a soft edge to everything. My eyes fall upon her open plan dining room and kitchen and they are both impeccably furnished, from the dark wood dining room set to the stainless steel and soft yellow finishing of her kitchen. Her home is warm. Her home is inviting. Except for its beauty, it has absolutely nothing in common with its owner. I turn to see her watching me pensively from behind one of the overstuffed couches.

"You're house is beautiful," I complement her, and for once, I honestly mean it.

"Thank you," she replies softly and almost seems as nervous as I am. She, however, recovers quickly and I am once again surprised by her mood swings. "Please take a sear, Mr. Cullen. I assume there is much to discuss today."

I nod and take a seat in one of the bucket chairs opposite the couch she's standing behind. Miss Swan looks at me for a moment and then swiftly turns and makes her way toward the kitchen.

"Something to drink?" she calls over her shoulder. I'm momentarily distracted by the sway of her perfect ass, before I clear my throat and ask for water.

She returns a moment later with a bottle of Evian and takes a seat on the couch opposite me, opening and taking a big sip of her own water. I watch her plump lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle as I lift mine to my mouth and fight the groan building in my chest. I take a big gulp and quickly squeeze my eyes closed. I'm seriously going to have to get my shit together.

"Did you bring your manuscript?" she asks once she places her water bottle on the side table.

"I did." I nod in confirmation and place by bottle beside hers before pulling the rolled up manuscript from my back pocket. She raises an eyebrow at the frumpy looking paper and I give her a crooked smile.

She takes the rolled up manuscript from me with slight disgust mirrored in her features, but quickly clears her throat and places it on the couch beside her. "I'll take a look at it later tonight in order to prepare for the phone call tomorrow."

I nod. She nods. Awkward silence follows.

"Miss Swan…"

"Mr. Cullen…"

"Sorry, you first." I laugh nervously.

She gives me a tight smile and then focuses on her folded hands in her lap. "Have you thought of your terms?" Her voice is small, and I sit forward in my seat slightly, straining to hear what she's saying. This lady is driving me crazy. One moment she's strong and forceful, like I expect. The next she is talking softly and almost seems as scared about this as I am. I'm definitely starting to feel the strain of this agreement, and the show hasn't even started yet.

"I have." I nod slowly, willing her to look up from her hands. "Are you ready to hear them, Miss Swan?"

Her eyes lift to mine and for a very brief moment, I see a spark of humour behind them. I blink rapidly in confusion, and then the look is gone.

"What are they then?" she asks with a sigh and then crosses and uncrosses her legs. My eyes follow their movement, before I tear them away and focus on her forehead instead.

"Well," I start slowly, clearing my throat and then abruptly standing up. It's impossible for me to sit while I do this, so I start pacing, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans. I come to a halt and turn to face Miss Swan, who has been patiently watching me freak out. She looks at me, silently imploring me to proceed. "Firstly I guess we'll need to learn to call each other by our given names. Mr. Cullen and Miss Swan will surely not work once your parents are here."

Miss Swan blinks a few times and then nods. "When do you suggest we start then?"

"Now is as good a time as any, I guess. I mean," I said, pausing to make sure she's still following me, "you're parents are arriving tomorrow, so we might as well practice a little before they get here, right?"

"Right," Miss Swan agrees. "What do you prefer being called then?"

"Edward is fine." I shrug. "And you?"

"Well, my birth name is Isabella, but no one except Aro calls me that." Miss Swan ponders softly, her eyes focus on the window behind me. "I suppose Bella will be fine." She shrugs and looks back at me. The sun filtering in through her curtains is giving her skin a soft glow and her eyes almost turn golden. I notice that her hair has some red in it, something I was never able to see since she always has it tied back for work.

"Bella." I test it and I'm shocked to find that it suits her perfectly. She is beautiful indeed. I'm even more shocked to hear her soft gasp. My eyes find hers and she seems frightened as all hell. I frown at the discovery and clear my throat for the millionth time since I stepped foot into her apartment. Miss Swan, I mean, Bella obviously realizes my discomfort and quickly reaches or the water bottle again, taking another strong pull from it.

"What else, Edward?" she asks and I can't help but enjoy the way my name sounds coming from her lips. I smile at her, and this time it's not forced. She's clearly taken aback by this but returns my smile with one of her own, although hers doesn't reach her eyes. Tough shit. One step at a time.

"The next thing is the physical part of this relationship." I start slowly, knowing that this is not going to be easy to discuss, for her or me.

Bella is immediately suspicious as she regards me slowly. "What about it?" I can tell her tone is forced.

"How long have we been together?" I ask, taking a different approach and easing into this. "According to your parents, of course?"

Bella blushes slightly in embarrassment about her lie. I'm certain it is almost killing her having me know about her little deceitful game and I'm just relishing in her discomfort. The game plan is coming together rather nicely at this point. "About two years." She shrugs, keeping her eyes on the rug at her feet.

"Well, Bella," I say softly. "People that have been in a serious, long term relationship are very comfortable around each other, as I'm sure you know." She frowns in response, probably dying to know where I'm going with this. "They kiss and touch with ease because they know everything about each other emotionally and…um…physically." I feel the top of my ears heat slightly. Talking to Bella about intimacy is proving a bit harder than I expected. I am relieved to find her blushing, her hair pulled over her shoulders in an attempt to hide her face. "If we're going to pull this off, we'll need to be comfortable around each other, and I'm sure you can agree that we are not close to that yet."

Bella looks up at me and once again nods in agreement. "What are you suggesting, Mr. …sorry…Edward?"

"I'm suggesting that we decide beforehand what kind of physical contact we'll both be comfortable with, you know, to avoid anything unexpected. I mean, if we agree on kisses on the cheek and I suddenly go in for the lips, I'm sure you will find it hard to hide your shock, right?"

"Right."

"And if we agree to hold hands, it will certainly surprise you if I touch your thigh, for example."

"It certainly will," Bella agrees softly. "I see where you're going with this, Edward, and I completely agree. We should set some boundaries."

"Good." I smile relieved and take my earlier seat across from her. "I suggest we make a list and then practice."

"Practice?" Bella shrieks as her terrified eyes find mine.

"Yes, practice." I give her a lopsided grin knowing that the plan is slowly being set in motion. "We are going to have to become accustomed to each other's touch before tomorrow. We can't have our first trial run in front of you parents, right?"

Bella considers this for a moment, her eyes moving from mine to my hands firmly planted on the arms of the chair to the window and then finally to her own hands. She takes a deep breath and keeps it in for a moment before releasing it in a gush. I see her swallow thickly, and then raise her eyes back to mine.

"Fine, we practice," she agrees and I fight to keep the shit eating grin from spreading my lips. Emmett would be so proud of how well this is going. "But, Mr. Cullen? Be warned. I'm still the one holding your manuscript in my hands. If you think this is going to be some scheme to embarrass me in front of my parents, think again. I have more contacts in this business than you have friends on Facebook. If you make a fool of me, even once, I will not hesitate to make a call to every publishing agent I know. Not only will you never have your book published in the United States, but you will never work as anything else but my junior editor until you retire. Are we on the same page, Edward?"

I stare at her with my mouth open and it feels like I have a handful of cotton balls stuffed in my mouth. I nearly choke when I finally try to swallow, and feel my eyes watering slightly in the fight to lubricate my throat. Gone is the nervous, fidgeting woman of a moment ago. She is replaced by my overconfident, calculating bitch of a boss and I find myself dazed at how quickly Miss Swan, Bella, whatever, can slip from one persona to another.

"Do we understand each other, Mr. Cullen?" Bella asks again, the icy edge to her voice enough to freeze the blood pumping through my veins.

"Crystal clear, Miss Swan," I finally manage, watching the dark haired grim reaper in front of me.

Like I said before, never underestimate this fucking woman, and underestimate her, I did.

xoxo

With Love…

Your Mistress

xoxo